


Damned for all Time

by SegaBarrett



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: M/M, Season 5B, washing/cleaning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse sees the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damned for all Time

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Breaking Bad, and I make no money from this.
> 
> A/N: Songs quoted from Jesus Christ Superstar. Also not owned by me - "Damned for All Time/Blood Money" and "Everything's Alright", (c) Rice/Webber, 1970. Great show. Go see it. 
> 
> Spoilers for 5x13!
> 
> Written for kink_bingo, "washing/cleaning".

When Jesse had been a kid, his parents had taken him to see a production of Jesus Christ Superstar.

While Jesse had liked the songs, the whole production had sufficiently freaked him the fuck out. Not the first half, with Jesus and Judas yelling at each other over Mary Magdalene, or the priests scheming or Pilate doing… things and having dreams that Jesse didn’t totally get because he wasn’t all that familiar with the source material… that was all well and good. He liked that. He’d been on the edge of his seat and chewing his nails and his parents hadn’t yelled at him at all which was a nice change from their normal nights out where he was way too active and they were way too impatient.

But the second half… the part where everything hit the fan and the little family that Act One had constructed began falling in on itself. When Judas hung himself and whips were flying through the air and…

Jesse had to run out the door and back into the safety of his parents’ car before they even got to the crucifixion.

His parents had sighed and questioned what he had gotten so upset about and he couldn’t even put words to it. He’d just curled up in a ball and cried.

***

It was a weird thing to think of now, half-buried in a pocket of sand in the desert, having just betrayed Mr. White, having spit on the man’s face and now… Now people were shooting at them all, at Mr. White and his brother-in-law and the other DEA agent and Jesse too.

He wondered if this was what Judas would have felt like if there’d been high-powered machine guns in the first century. All dirty and half-dead and buried.  
His eyes were burning with the sand. Out in the desert… what had they said happened to Judas after he died? Maybe no one knew and maybe no one cared, fading into oblivion except for his name becoming a synonym for betrayer, for rat, for the word that Mr. White had hissed at him, coward.

He should find Mr. White. Maybe he was still alive. What about the two cops? He was sure he’d seen them fall. But Mr. White was still in the car. Maybe he could get to him. Maybe he didn’t owe him his freedom, but some part of him was sure that he still owed him his life.

Jesse made a break for it, for the car he knew Mr. White was in. There were bullets flying everywhere, but maybe he could be like Gus, moving through them without a single one touching him. He could hear them go by his head, but he kept moving. The car was close enough that he could almost touch it, if he just stretched his arms wide enough.

Then he saw red fly out from his chest in little bursts that didn’t look real; it was like he was playing a game with Badger and Skinny Pete. He couldn’t be hit because he didn’t hurt, not yet. He could keep going. He could only see Mr. White’s feet through the shattered car window. He’d never paid much attention to his feet before. But he was close enough for his fingertips to touch the hood of the car.

Then he fell, suddenly, like he’d been running down a staircase and had missed a step. He could hear Mr. White yelling, “Jesse, no!”

Everything was dirt. Dirt and sand and Judas Iscariot and running out of the theater when everything had turned dark and he’d hung himself and the blood had flown across the stage.

He could remember, he could remember, that night was caught in his brain like a loop, like one of the old records his aunt played sometimes where the needle got caught in a groove.

_“I have no thought at all about my own reward… I really didn’t come here of my own accord… just don’t say I’m… damned for all time…”_

Jesse couldn’t open his eyes, there was too much sand, too much white. The pain was spreading.

“If there’s a hell… I don’t know if you’re into that… but we’re already going there.”

Then everything went from white to pitch black…

***

“Looks like the kid’s awake.”

Jesse heard the words and opened his eyes slowly. They were still caked in dust and he couldn’t see clearly, but he knew the voice in a way that stirred his heart.

“Mike?”

There was a gentle touch on his shoulder.

“Stay still kid, you’re filthy.”

Jesse laughed bitterly.

“A filthy rat.”

He could feel rather than see Mike shake his head.

“Don’t worry about that, kid. It’s all over. Stay still.” Jesse felt something wet against his forehead. “Open your eyes. Keep them open.” He listened to the instructions even as he didn’t understand them, allowing the water to run into his eyes. The soft brush of a towel came up next, stroking lightly along the rims and clearing away the dirt. He could see now, could see Mike standing in front of him with the towel in hand and a bucket of crystal-clear water. They were inside a kind of room, a big room and so bright white that it almost hurt to look at, but not quite.  
Mike dipped the towel in water again and ran it over Jesse’s arm next, taking off the layers of sand, of blood now, leaving him with soft, peach-white skin.

Next he started on Jesse’s other arm. Each gentle touch felt better than anything Jesse had experienced in recent memory, and he let out a little whimper of pleasure.

“But… Mike? Why are you cleaning me up? It’s not going to do any good. I think… I’m dead.”

“They won’t let you through the gates looking like that, kid.”

Jesse opened his eyes wider as Mike dragged the towel over one of Jesse’s legs, instructing him softly to lay back.

“I don’t think they’re gonna let me through the gates at all, Mike. I assume they didn’t…” He let out a soft moan again as he lay back and Mike cleared some caked dirt off of one of his knees. 

There was a big scab there that Jesse hadn’t even noticed, but somehow Mike was washing that away, too, before he lifted up Jesse’s shirt and set the towel aside, picking up a new one and starting to wash Jesse’s stomach. “…Assume they didn’t let Judas Iscariot in.”

Mike paused in his cleaning only long enough to look at him.

“You’re not Judas Iscariot, kid.”

“I betrayed…”

“’Cause Walter sure as hell isn’t Jesus Christ… no matter what he might think. Your metaphor falls a little flat there.” He dabbed at Jesse’s belly button as Jesse continued to babble. 

“I’m… but I am. I’m… damned for all time. Isn’t that how the song went?”

“Shhh… kid.” Mike gently rolled Jesse on to his back and strokes the towel over it, rubbing gently but determinedly. Jesse could feel the dirt melt away, but could it clean his conscience too? “I know the show,” Mike said a long while later, and it took Jesse a moment to remember he’d made the reference. “And doesn’t the other song go…” Mike cleared his throat before quoting, not singing, though he might as well have for how nice his voice felt on Jesse’s ears. “ _Try not to get worried… try not to turn on to… problems that upset you oh, don’t you know everything’s alright yes everything’s fine…”_ He set the towel aside a moment. “Your hair is next.”

Jesse felt his head lifted up and placed against a bucket. Mike ran the towel over his hair, making soothing little murmurs. It ended far too quickly.

“Last but not least, your feet…” Mike said softly. Jesse felt a weird kind of unease about it that he hadn’t felt with the rest of it. Why should Mike do this for him? Mike was so much better than him, so much above him… He opened his mouth to say so, to argue, but the wet towel was already brushing against his heel, over the little bones in his feet. He gazed at Mike with wide, humble eyes, trying to figure it all out but not finding any words that could express it.

By the time he’d finished with the second, Jesse was in a daze. 

“On your feet, kid.” Mike took his hand and lifted him up. 

“I need my shoes, don’t I?” Jesse babbled, but Mike shook his head.

“Not here, kid.” He kept their hands intertwined and began to lead Jesse towards the door at the edge of the room.

“Where’s Mr. White? Did he make it out?” Jesse asked as he followed the older man.

Mike didn’t respond. He simply hummed softly before quietly putting words to it.

_“Close your eyes, close your eyes and forget all about us tonight…”_

**The End**


End file.
